


tatooine sucks and here's why

by rrosebudd



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Bounty Hunter, Slavery, smugglers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:55:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26430769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rrosebudd/pseuds/rrosebudd
Summary: Band of smugglers Nyla, Banto, and Bingo walk into a cantina. They've got a job to do, but while Nyla, a Twi'Lek and escaped slave dancer, is left alone by herself at the bar, a mysterious strangers talks her up, and it goes south from there.
Kudos: 1





	tatooine sucks and here's why

**Author's Note:**

> I was gonna change the title to something more serious but I couldnt be fucked and this is what it's named in my docs so!!
> 
> this is about characters from TTRPG Edge of the Empire, and Nyla is near and dear to me, so much so that I wrote approximately four different AUs about the different ways she could get captured and returned to Nar Shaddaa. This is the first of those fics, enjoy.

“I hate catinas.”

The distasteful observation would have otherwise been entirely drowned out by the din of the bar, if Nyla’s companion wasn’t right by her side. 

Banto Salzar heard her quite well, despite the music and the chatter that surrounded them, and still managed to roll her eyes at her as the two hung by the threshold. 

“You say that every time we step foot in one.” 

“Yes, and?” The Twi’lek woman retorted as her eyes swept over the crowd. “I’m right every time.”

The pit droid at their feet chirped up, nodding its disc-like head in Nyla’s direction. 

Salzar huffed. “Yeah, you always take her side.” 

Bingo bounced once on his two metal feet, beeping again, as Nyla stepped around him and down the stairs that led further into the seedy pub. 

“How can you complain about the smell,” the human scowled down at the droid, before shaking his head and following behind his counterpart. “You don’t even have a nose.” 

Bingo made a sound that could have been the vocable equivalent of a frown, but picked up the pace, and hopped down the steps as well. The three smugglers wove their way through the crowd, past the drunken patrons and bar fights waiting to happen. Customers of any imaginable race mingled throughout the room, but none wore a familiar face. 

“You are sure that this Tyrdon man said to meet here?” Nyla spoke up, above the drone of other voices to make herself heard. 

“No,” Salzar replied with a snort, warranting a confused lowered brow from his partner. “He didn’t give coordinates, just the general… area.” He put his hands on his hips and gazed around the dimly lit interior of the bar. “But there’s not much else in the east corner of Mos Toraa in the way of meeting places. Or anywhere else on Tatooine, for that matter.” 

Nyla took a breath, and adjusted her armored jacket. “Right,” she exhaled. Contacts like these tended to be unreliable, she knew, and she didn’t care for it. “Suppose we can wait.” 

The human smuggler and the droid at his feet both nodded in agreement, and Banto led the way to the bar, dodging the crowd on the way over. Nyla kept close behind him, and as the two reached the center of the room, they both pulled up a stool, and leaned on the bar with an almost synchronized nonchalance. 

Bingo kept an eye out from between their chairs, though a stray leg jostled him on occasion. Several minutes passed without any sign of the person with whom they were meeting, quiet falling between the partners, save for the conversations around them, accompanied by Bingo’s metallic humming to the music performed by the band. 

After another minute with no indication of work, Salzar put his forehead down on the counter. “Are we allowed to drink on the job,” he groaned. The Trandoshan bartender glanced over his shoulder with narrowed eyes.

“What job,” Nyla nudged his shoulder with her elbow. “I don’t see a client.” She rolled her eyes, as Banto remained face-down on the bar. “You are an embarrassment. Sit up like a sober person might.” 

Salzar let out a long sigh through puffed cheeks upon straightening his back. “Fine,” he frowned. “I’ll drink if you’re buying.” 

“What a gentleman.” 

“Hey, I’m not looking to waste any credits right now.” He shook his head, and tapped his fingers on the bar as he spoke. “We’re in the business of making money, remember.”

Nyla raised a thin brow in his direction. “And what makes you think I am?”

“Then I guess we’re out of luck, hm?” Banto sucked his teeth, and shot another glance toward the entrance for their contact. 

“Not so fast,” the Twi’lek held up a hand.

Banto looked back to her, suspicion written on his face, but he gestured for her to continue, and leaned back as though to give her room. 

She flashed him a smile, before composing her expression, and clearing her throat. Nyla leaned forward, and raising her voice louder than would be necessary for a private conversation, spoke to the bartender.

“I’m sorry, it’s _how_ much for one cup of Ardees?” Nyla’s exasperated tone rose just a bit above the cantina’s ambience, and turned several heads, including that of the bartender. In the midst of cleaning a glass, the Trandoshan man looked to her with a skepticism shared by the girl’s companion, and though he opened his mouth to respond, Nyla kept going. 

“That’s a bit ridiculous don’t you think,” she threw a hand up without waiting for the bartender’s answer. “I don’t even have that much on me.” She sighed, if with some added drama, and slumped back in her stool. “I’ll just have a water, then.” 

As she pouted and put her chin in her hand with another exaggerated exhale, Banto looked between her and the bartender, a single brow raised up into his hairline. 

He leaned into her. “What was that?” 

Nyla didn’t break her disappointed act, keeping her gaze down at the counter as she traced sad circles with her finger. She whispered to him from the corner of her mouth. “Give it a second.” 

His own was poised to ask her to clarify, but he didn’t get the chance. As though on cue, a fourth presence joined them. A small uncertain beep came from underneath the smugglers' stools as Bingo shrunk down into his compacted form. 

Nyla felt a hand weigh down on her shoulder, and she almost cracked a smile. She straightened her back, and discreetly shooed Banto away, who leaned back accordingly. 

She turned, flicking one of her lekku back behind her shoulder, and was met with the sight of a Devaronian man right in front of her. 

An innocent smile appeared on her lips. “Hi there.” 

The Devaronian’s gaze traveled down once, then back up. “You drinking alone?” His brow was raised in a way that made his horns look lopsided, his face pulled into a smarmy grin. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Nyla could see Banto gag. She cleared her throat again with a polite smirk. “I don’t have to be,” she shrugged coyly, batting her eyelashes for good measure. 

The man gave her a nod, and dropped his hand from her shoulder, instead favoring the small of her back. She tensed slightly, but didn’t let it show, beaming to him all the while. 

“I’ve got you covered,” he assured lowly, and gestured to get the bartender’s attention. “Two Ardees. Stronger for the lady,” he instructed, before catching Nyla’s eyes again with a proud mouthful of sharp teeth. 

“You’re too kind,” Nyla waved him off. 

A gravelled laugh came from the devilish man, whose name Nyla didn’t care to ask or even know, as he dug in his pocket and clapped onto the counter a stack of credits. The bartender cast a glance in Nyla’s direction, pausing, but he took the credits off the counter and got to work retrieving the drinks. 

There was a moment of awkward, if suggestive, eye contact, as the Devaronion struggled to initiate conversation, but Nyla smiled along nonetheless. 

The Devaronian cleared his throat, a low sound, not unlike claws against wood, and he gestured to her. “So, uh-“ 

She blinked with the same expectant smile, but obviously didn’t intend to let his conversation last long. The clink of glasses came from the bar next to them, making more interesting chatter than this man was. 

He swiped his tongue across his fangs. “What… brings you to-?”

“Oh, look at that, my drinks are here!” Nyla interrupted him with a high-pitched exclamation and a tight smile. The bartender slid over the two glasses, and Nyla swiftly picked up both.

Obvious confusion scrunched the brow of the Devaronian, and he watched as his less-than-potential date sip from one of the cups while passing the other one to the man on her right. 

Banto scooped up the second drink and raised his glass in the Devaronian’s direction. “Cheers.” 

The man’s upper lip raised. He shot a glare between Nyla and her partner. “What-?” 

“I appreciate the gesture, my friend,” Nyla cut him off once more, laying on the silky voice despite the double-crossing, “but I think I’d rather enjoy these alone.” 

The Devaronian paused, and then laughed, a short guffaw in response to the rejection. But as it appeared there was no humor in Nyla’s smile, his own dropped. “You’re kidding.” 

Nyla had to bite her lip to keep from scoffing herself, but she favored rolling her eyes instead, as her free hand went to her belt. She lazily brushed her jacket out of the way to reveal a blaster pistol holstered by her hip. “Get lost.”

The Devaronian narrowed his eyes. Nyla winked. 

He growled through gritted teeth, and turned on his heel to stomp off, back into the crowd of the cantina. 

Nyla let out an exhale the moment his back was turned. She dropped her hand and flopped back down into her stool, leaning back against the bar as she took a swig from her glass. 

Banto let out a deep chuckle as his counterpart sat back down next to him. “You’re really trying to start trouble, huh?” He remarked, but mirrored her in taking a drink. 

“I think the words you are looking for are ‘you’re welcome,’” Nyla scrunched her nose at him. 

A beep from underneath their seats reminded them of Bingo’s presence. He shuffled up to his full three-foot height and made a somewhat sharp gesture in the direction of the dense crowd. 

The Twi’lek snorted. “Yes, you have express permission to kill him if he makes trouble.” 

Bingo made a satisfied and mumbled series of noises, before plopping onto the floor once more with a clang of metal against the ground. 

“Y’know,” Banto spoke up again, his voice drowning in his glass as he took another swig, “I could’ve sworn you were against the whole…” he gestured over Nyla with an open palm, earning him a look from his companion. “Like, playing up the ‘damsel in distress’ thing.” 

Nyla let out a sharp breath of amusement through her nose. “If you don’t want your drink, I can take it back.” 

Banto pouted. “No, I want it.” He put a hand over the top of the glass and tugged it close to his chest. 

She shook her head with a small chuckle, leaning onto her elbow as she took a drink, and seemed to think on that for a moment. Nyla shrugged. “I suppose if it’s over something small, I don’t have to feel quite as bad.” 

Banto tilted his glass with a nod. “It’s for the greater good, really.” He beamed at her. 

She laughed. “Exactly. Besides, what’s a couple credits between criminals?” 

“Exactly,” he repeated with a large grin that made her giggle again, before the two turned their attention back to their respective drinks. 

Bingo kept himself busy by dismantling and reassembling the empty stool next to them, and soon became bored, and instead headed over to occupied stools to do the same. The three kept an ear and an eye out all the while, as they still had a job to do, despite drinking on it. 

The conversation between the two was sparse, though the chatting around them didn’t seem to cease, as they sat and enjoyed their free refreshments for several moments. Still no trace of a contact. 

By the time the band had completed their fifth song and started the sixth, Banto tossed back the rest of his Ardees, and shoved himself away from the bar. 

“This is ridiculous,” the human declared, as Nyla was still only halfway into her glass. 

“Mm?” She tried to clarify with her mouth full. 

“Tyrdon’s either late, or he’s lost, and either one is downright unprofessional.” Salzar pushed himself up to his feet with a huff. 

Nyla blinked, and put her drink down as well, casting another glance around the cantina, just in case, but to little success. “And we’re not?” 

“I say we go try to find him,” he ignored her, dusting off his armored clothes as he pushed in his stool. 

“Where else could he be?” Nyla frowned. 

“Hell if I know, but he ain’t here.” 

She rolled her eyes. “And if he comes back?” 

Banto paused as he straightened himself, and he huffed, adjusting his jacket on his shoulders. “Good idea,” he nodded curtly, and pointed to the ground. “You stay here and wait for him.” He snapped his fingers and pointed across the bar. 

“Bingo, let’s roll!” Salzar called. 

The pit droid’s head snapped up from where he sat on the floor several meters away. He gave a beep of confirmation, which was shortly followed by the crashing of metal to the floor, along with a shout of surprise from a patron whose chair had mysteriously collapsed out from under them. 

Bingo rocketed up to his feet and bounced over to Banto, leaving behind a nut and a bolt as he went. 

“We’re gonna go look for Tyrdon, Nyla’s gonna stay here and keep watch,” he instructed the droid with a confident nod, who returned one right back. 

Nyla’s mouth was open in protest that she hadn’t been able to give. “Wh-?”

Banto began heading to the door. “Give me a call if you see him, okay?” He gave her a thumbs up with an oblivious grin on his face, while the offense on hers was palpable. 

She stood up, throwing back a hand as she tried to beckon him back to her. “Wait, you know I hate-!”

“Just get someone else to buy you a drink, it’ll be fun.” He waved her off, and turned his back, slipping through the crowd and toward the door with the loyal pit droid right on his tail. 

Nyla dropped her arms with disbelieving scoff, She ran a hand down her face and flopped back onto the stool, rolling her eyes into the back of her head and picking up her drink once more. Her partner certainly wasn’t someone to think before acting, let alone ask permission, and she didn’t think she could change that anytime soon. 

She truly didn’t enjoy the idea of hanging around here any longer than was absolutely necessary, but she supposed she had a job to do. Bringing her drink back to her lips, she scanned each face for the umpteenth time to no more avail than the first. 

She groaned and took a sizable drink from her glass. The atmosphere in places like this made her sick, but she would have to stomach it for the time being. 

Her deep thoughts of distaste kept her company for several minutes as she sat alone. But she wasn’t allowed to wallow for too long, as a voice came from behind her. 

“This seat taken?” 

Nyla hid the exasperation in her sigh as best she could. She didn’t look over her shoulder, instead studying the contents of her glass and swirling them around. “Technically, no,” she huffed. “My partner was supposed to be sitting here, but he’s busy…” 

She took a drink, the rest of her words trailing off into her glass, as she turned over her shoulder to see the man taking the stool next to her. 

She was met with a raised brow and a tickled smile from the patron, and she nearly choked on her alcohol. She swallowed hard and covered her mouth with a cough. 

“... and not nearly as cute as you.” Nyla finished, and quickly scooted an inch closer. “Hi, by all means, come sit,” she beamed. 

The man next to her laughed good-naturedly, and complied. He was handsome, if ruggedly so, with tousled light hair and the makings of an untamed beard, decked in a set of armored clothing not unlike her own. 

He pulled up the stool and sat close to her, giving her a small bashful smile. “That’s, um-” he cleared his throat, “forward. But very flattering.” 

She shrugged, placing her drink down, as her gaze gave him another look over. “I like to pride myself on my honesty,” she lied. And then after a pause, corrected herself. “Most of the time.” 

She was rewarded with a laugh from him as he got comfortable alongside her. His eyes appeared to travel down and back up just as hers did, and caught her gaze back up at the top. 

“Can I get you a drink?” The man offered. His voice was gravelly, but sweet.

Nyla smirked, and raised the half-empty glass in her hand. “I’m set, thanks.” 

He nodded, and pointed at the glass as well, if with some awkwardness to his movements. “Right,” he chuckled nervously. 

“But you don’t have one,” she observed, leaning forward on her free arm to shrink the gap between them. “Would you like me to fix that?” 

He bit his lip as he smiled, but put a hand up. “Ah, no, I wish. But I gotta head out of here in a bit. And I don’t drink and fly.” 

Nyla hummed in agreement. “Smart,” she tapped her forehead, and gave him a wink. 

He watched her as she took a swig from her glass and placed it down with a sigh. 

“Wish I could say I was getting off this dirt rock, too, but alas,” Nyla lamented. 

“Yeah?” He kept his eyes on her. “What brings someone as colorful as you to the most boring planet in the galaxy?” 

She chuckled, a pink coming to her purple cheeks. “Work, unfortunately,” she shrugged again. “I’m supposed to be meeting with this employer, but he has yet to show his face. So I’m stuck here in the meantime.” 

The man nodded, a thoughtful look on his face. “Rough,” he sympathized. “What kind of work?” 

She waved her hand loosely. “Odd jobs, here and there.” Her answer was vague, as it always was.

As she met the eyes of the man next to her, she could see the playful suspicion there in the form of a raised brow, and she had to stifle a laugh. 

“Listen, I’m not one to smuggle and tell, my friend.” She gently shoved his arm. 

He laughed heartily, and put his hands up in defense. “No questions from me, honest.” He grinned. 

“Mhm,” she teased with a roll of her eyes, and took another sip of her drink, finishing off the cup’s contents. “What about you, hm?” She inquired casually, a smile stuck to her face. “I’m assuming you’re not from Tatooine.” 

He scoffed, a hand on his chest in mock offense. “Who do you take me for?” He shook his head with another laugh, as Nyla giggled helplessly. He waved her off as though to let her know he was joking. “Nah, I’m just here for some ship repairs.”

Nyla nodded along, her close-lipped smile still present. “Understandable.” 

He shook his head. “I should be back on the road real soon. This planet’s a drag, anyway.”

“Right?” She threw a hand up. “My partner was all _‘oh, you’re too negative, there’s more than meets the eye_ ’,” she dropped her voice to imitate Banto, “but like, where? There’s nothing here!” Nyla laughed, her accent palpable even through the impression and humor. 

Her new friend guffawed along, his nose scrunching up in amusement, one hand on his stomach. “See, you get it.”

The laughter between the two died down until only the band’s music was left between them, but their smiles were still there. 

“Yeah, this place isn’t the best,” Nyla finished with a small chuckle, but met the man’s eyes again, a gleam in her own. “But the people don’t seem so bad.” 

He smiled at her, the kind that crinkled the eyes and felt warm. They were close to one another, but not touching, instead allowing the music to speak. 

She noticed, however, his hand go atop hers. She didn’t mind so much. He seemed lost in thought for a moment, before leaning back, and clicking his tongue. 

He pointed at her with his free hand. “Do you wanna dance?” 

Nyla’s grin didn’t falter, but it was possible the way she smiled with her eyes did. She cleared her throat. “Oh, I…” she chuckled. “I can’t.” 

Though his smile remained soft, his brow furrowed slightly. “You can’t?” He pursed his lips, his brown eyes pleading like a puppy dog. “C’mon, now.” 

Nyla shrugged. There was some new tension in her shoulders. “I… have two left feet. I can’t.” She giggled, perhaps with too much innocence. 

He paused, searching her face with a frown, before cracking another laugh. “Nah, you don’t fool me for a second.” He gave her hand a squeeze. She shifted in her seat. 

Nyla’s brow lowered, and she pouted. “What?” 

He shook his head, a smile still on his lips, but a bit more devilish than she remembered. “With a body like yours, I could see you up on stage as a full-time show-girl.” 

He took her hand and brought it to his face. But before his lips could make contact with her knuckles, she slowly tugged her hand back. 

She coughed, and covered it up with a laugh. “No, stop.” Nyla chuckled. She pushed her stool back an inch. “I’m serious, I…”

“You’re sure you’ve never danced before?” He leaned forward, planting a fist under his chin. 

Nyla tore her gaze from his to look to the door. Banto shouldn’t be far. She grit her teeth. “Positive,” she flashed him a quick smile. It was short lived. 

“Really?” He let his eyes drop over her again. “Never been in the cantina business, never been on stage…?” He pressed. “That doesn’t seem too likely. I’ve seen girls like you all over the place.”

She felt glued to her chair, one of her hands clutching to the edge of the stool. “This has been fun, but I… I should really-”

She watched as he looked off, before flicking his gaze back to her, meeting her eyes from under his brow. His lip curled up in a half-smile.

“Especially in places like Nar Shaddaa.” 

Her polite front fell. Her vision shot to the door again, as her hand slowly fell to her pocket. She wouldn’t make a scene here. 

Her suddenly trembling fingers were busy fumbling for her comlink, as her eyes searched for Banto or Bingo by the entrance, so much so that she was distracted from the man across from her. 

The feeling of fingertips of her cheek brought her gaze back to him. She couldn’t remember when his face changed, but it was different now. 

Her light eyes met his warm ones, but they didn’t seem so warm anymore. His thumb traced across her jaw. 

“Someone’s missing you, Nyla.” 

Her skin went cold. She wanted to break away and sprint for the door, but her muscles were tensed, tight and unmoving. 

Her voice was small and low. “I have to go,” she whispered, and slowly shrunk back, putting one of her feet on the floor and gripping her comlink with one hand. 

The man, whose name she never got, and who knew hers all along, merely laughed. But it was sinister, and darkly amused. “You’re cute. That much is honest.” He shook his head, and moved his jacket out of the way. 

His hand lazily gripped a blaster on his belt, and he propped the weapon up on the bar, nearly yawning from the nonchalance of it all. Nyla stopped moving. 

His other hand reached into his pocket and pulled out a metal disk, which he tossed into the air and promptly caught, before shoving it back into his pocket. She didn’t see the item for long, but she didn’t need to; she knew a bounty punk when she saw one. 

With the blaster still casually pointed in her direction, he motioned to her with the barrel. “Get up,” he spoke flatly. 

She took a breath, her eyes screwing shut for a moment as she collected herself and attempted not to wince aloud. Her finger found the button on her comlink as she pulled it from her pocket and hid it behind her back, and she pressed it down. 

Nyla opened her eyes to see the bounty hunter looking her over, the charming amusement completely gone from his visage. 

“I said-“

“I’m going.” She snapped, and stood from the stool. 

He gave a small smile of triumph, and stood as well, giving the gun a little twirl in his hand, before beckoning Nyla forward with it once more. 

A sneer raised her upper lip. She stepped forward, and the hunter stepped beside her to allow her to move ahead, before he seized her arm, and positioned the gun at the small of her back. 

“Funny, I bet you thought you and I would be getting out of here,” the bounty hunter chuckled in her ear. “Just not like this, huh?”

Her jaw clenched, and she jammed her elbow into his gut. She was rewarded with the pained grunt of the man just behind her. But her complacence didn’t last long, as the metal of the gun was jabbed between her shoulder blades once more.

She hissed in through her teeth, and try as she might to keep her feet planted, she felt his large hand on the back of her neck, as he shoved her head forward. 

“Move,” he instructed. 

She shot him a glare over her shoulder, but it was more heartbroken than it was an intimidation tactic.

Nyla stepped forward, feeling the blaster reposition itself at her back. She looked toward the door, and fists clenched, one around her communication device, she headed out of the bar, her fate breathing down her neck all the while. 


End file.
